


nostalgia

by schwarzvelt



Category: Shin Megami Tensei Series, 真女神転生IV | Shin Megami Tensei IV
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Fluff, Fluff(?), Gen, class oppression, gift for someone else, idk how to tag..., of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarzvelt/pseuds/schwarzvelt
Summary: my contribution for the birthday zine for Idamdra! a fic about Flynn reminiscing on why he and Issachar became Samurai. also my first time posting on archive ehehe
Kudos: 9





	nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roald_Seth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roald_Seth/gifts).



Flynn was born the youngest of five children to a pious family in Kiccigiorgi, a village a ways away from the capitol city. His father was a lumberjack, and his mother, like all women in Kiccigiorgi, was the homemaker. His older siblings consisted of three boys, and one girl, who was the eldest. His first memories were of his sister; he remembered her as having cared for him as a baby as a lesson from their mother in domesticity and child-rearing. His brothers were not much more than vague, blurred memories, a fact Flynn found mildly tragic, but it never particularly weighed him down. 

The epidemic swept the small village of Kiccigiorgi without any prior sign that anything could have been wrong. It took all of Flynn’s older siblings, several of the villagers, and anyone who had not died was certainly infected. It ruptured the small village economy and an emergency call was sent to the monastery to send as many Samurai, clergymen, and clerics as needed to help sort out the crisis. 

Curiously, the toddler Flynn was the only person in the entire village who appeared to be uninfected. 

Church was already a constant, but its presence doubled down once things settled. To Flynn’s knowledge, no one’s faith wavered, or no one admitted to wavering faith. No one in the entirety of Mikado would admit to having doubts in their faith. The usual explanation was that all events -- including disasters -- was a part of God’s plan, though there were always fringe rumors of demonic activity or witchcraft. Despite their suffering and the loss of their children, Flynn’s parents said, there was a silver lining to the epidemic, perhaps a blessing from God.

Because without the epidemic, Flynn and Issachar would not have become friends. 

Issachar was orphaned by the epidemic and the village’s hands were too full taking care of its sick to figure out what to do with him. The people of Kiccigiorgi were tight-knit, however, and Issachar was just a toddler like Flynn, so his needs were met by various healthy enough villagers cycling him around, but he had no adoptive parents. 

The story Flynn’s parents and the rest of the adults in Kiccigiorgi told him was that at a church gathering surrounding the epidemic, Issachar abandoned his allotted caretakers to babble at Flynn. Since then, the two were inseparable. Flynn’s parents seemed to consider their spontaneous friendship a miracle. 

Perhaps it was. 

Flynn and Issachar were noticeably closer to each other than any of the other kids in Kiccigiorgi. Outsiders would have assumed them to be brothers. The other children played in groups with each other, some sectioning off, but Flynn and Issachar were always together even when playing with other children. 

The already evident bond between them became more obvious after the two had gone on their first errand trip to the castle town. Flynn remembered that day clearly.

It was their first time ever outside Kiccigiorgi and their wonder at every minute detail outside its borders compounded by their child brains had caused the chore to take longer than perhaps it was supposed to. They stopped and inspected every strange rock or wildflower they came across; when they were done, they would examine every new rock or wildflower that came their way. Issachar in particular took note of the honeybees pollinating the flowers. They were in a wide, open plain and trees were sparse and spread out and bees had to make their hives in trees, Flynn clearly remembered Issachar clearly pointing out. Did that mean bees were willing to travel for miles to supply for their hives?

Flynn said in response that they were kinda like the bees, then, because they were traveling miles on foot to supply for their village. Issachar agreed. 

When the pair discovered Lake Mikado, it was almost like discovering an oasis in the middle of the desert. The boys looked in excitement as a large, climbable, tree was positioned just on the shore of a fair sized lake, perfect for jumping from. The two agreed that for now they would do all they could to prevent themselves from jumping in, since they still had chores to complete, but they would definitely return one day for a swim. And return they did. 

The castle town itself was like a labyrinth to them. Dozens of districts, all tiered on a tall hill progressing up the societal ladder, with the castle itself at the very top. To think they were so close to the king, it was exciting. 

The people were generally amicable and helped the children make their way around the city, but not all. 

“What are these two piglets doing here?”

Flynn still remembered the man clearly, a Luxoror, older, probably in his late forties to early or mid fifties, his belly was plump and round as were his reddish cheeks. In hindsight, Flynn wondered if this man was drunk at the time. 

He hobbled toward them. “Where are you two piggies from, eh?”

“A...Are you talking to us, sir?” Issachar squeaked. 

“Of course, brat, is there anyone else here as dirty as you two?”

Both of the boys were made to take a bath before they left. 

Issachar and Flynn exchanged a glance. “Um… We’re from Kiccigiorgi, sir…” Issachar answered, bewildered by this man’s audacity. 

The man laughed. A bellied, mocking laugh. “Oh, really? Kiccigiorgi, huh? Some shantytown scumfuck sent their piglet brats to shit the place up huh? You brats must be here for a reason. You kids got any money on you?”

Flynn and Issachar were frozen in place. Weren’t Luxorors rich? Why did this man want their money?  
“W-we only have enough for our errands, s-sir.”

“Yeah? Yeah? I guess you’ll have to tell your parents you couldn’t get the fucking groceries and gave it to a nice, friendly old man instead.”

“But we can’t! Uh..sir.”

The man suddenly turned to Flynn. 

“You know… You’ve been awfully quiet.. You don’t like me? Something on my fucking face?”

The color from Flynn’s face drained. The man grabbed him by the collar.

“If you’re not gonna give me the fucking money, then I guess you’re little friend’ll have to pay with a broken nose.”

Issachar’s eyes widened in horror. Flynn braced himself. 

“Sir, is there a problem here?”

The man’s grip on Flynn loosened and Flynn fell backwards.

A Samurai had appeared.

“These… Casulary brats think they can just stroll in our district!”

“Is that so? I don’t believe visiting a district is a crime, with all due respect sir. And it appears you were about to strike that boy.”

The man began mumbled a “fucking Samurai” and left with surprisingly little resistance

“Are you two okay?” The Samurai reached down to help Flynn up. 

“Y-yes. We’re fine, sir.”

“I’m very sorry you two had to deal with that. Would the two of you happen to be on an errand?”

“Y...yes, sir” The first words Flynn said since the encounter. 

“Are you in need of any help finding what you need?”

Issachar hesitated a moment before answering. “Y-yeah, we have to go to the butcher and get some materials.”

“I see.”

The Samurai led the boys to the butcher and the general market to buy the things requested by Flynn’s parents and helped them figure out how much they had to pay. He helped them carry some of their groceries while they traversed the city, and once Flynn and Issachar had finished their errands, he escorted them back to the first Casualry district. 

“Do you two need help getting back to your village?”

Flynn and Issachar shook their heads. 

“Before you go,” the Samurai reached his hand in a pocket and shuffled around, “take these.”

The Samurai produced two pieces of candy. Flynn and Issachar’s faces lit up. 

Issachar lunged for the candies and gave one to Flynn. “Thank you so much, sir!” Issachar waved and the boys turned to leave.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since then, Flynn and Issachar had been to the castle town dozens of times for errands, and on the rare occasion just to hang out. Coming for the sole reason of the Gauntlet Rite was making them both nostalgic. From the time they met up to leave for the city, to the time they were already in it, the two had went back and forth on various memories from their childhoods. 

There was heavy anticipation in the air, and a heavier, more grim feeling Flynn couldn’t exactly place, with the unshakeable feeling he had an important dream at Lake Mikado that he couldn’t remember. 

This may be the last time Issachar and Flynn ever see each other again. 

“Hey… Issachar, do you remember how we became friends and the first time we came here?”


End file.
